


A Sickle In A Haystack

by PreciousWritingFan



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Action/Adventure, Big Bang Challenge, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-21 00:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17632388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreciousWritingFan/pseuds/PreciousWritingFan
Summary: This fic follows Alex Rider and my own OC Samuel Ashton as they travel to takedown notorious Russian arms dealer Charinov. Also features a fictitious Secret Organisation RISC.





	1. An Unlikely Duo

**Author's Note:**

> https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/514147156328710159/541335100118269952/unknown.png
> 
> The artwork was provided by my friend: LeonardRogersR, check out their ao3!

Sam had to admit. Waiting at King’s Cross on a chilly Saturday afternoon for an unknown agent was slightly worrying.  
He had been dropped off at the station an hour ago by a bemused agent after being forced into a mission by the new head of RISC; George Riltz, after the previous director, Astrin was fired. He knew immediately that George had taken a disliking to him and wondered if this was Riltz’s way of removing him, possibly permanently.  
He had been saved 4 months ago after he ran away from his father, a member of a criminal syndicate, and since then has been training at RISC, a very highly secret organisation, so secret in fact, that even MI6 were unaware of its existence, and since he had no other family he knew of, it was essentially his only home. He sat down on a bench and sighed, brushing a strand of soot-black hair out of his emerald eyes.  
After pacing up and down the platform for a while, listening to the rhythm of his cane tapping against concrete flooring, whilst continually checking the clock on the wall, he noticed someone heading to him.  
It took him a moment to realise who it was, then he understood. The blonde hair and dark maroon eyes made it obvious who it was.

The famous Alex Rider would be working with him! He’d of course heard of him back when there were rumours that a boy had shot the Prime Minister to stop the release of the Stormbreakers by Herod Sayle.

“Well, this is exciting,” Sam told himself as he stood up and approached the other boy, the handle on his cane becoming sweaty due to Sam’s excitement. As he reached Alex he extended a hand to shake.

“Alex, it’s coo- nice to meet you.” Sam extended an arm, bearing a smile.  
They shook, Alex gave a brief nod.  
“Mind telling me who you are?” Alex questioned. “I’m afraid I don’t know you, just that we’re working together.”

“Oh, yes, I’m Ashton…Samuel Ashton.” He joked, smiling.

Alex smirked. “Don’t tell me, you’re a practising Bond actor?” 

Sam shook his head, “I wish!” He grinned. The sound of incoming trains and the announcer’s voice over their head deafened them as they began to leave, wading through incoming people as they headed to the arriving train.

Walking out of the station, Alex briefly glanced at Sam, noticing he was limping. He decided not to ask.

“Do you know what it is we’re here for?” Sam asked, his eyes scanning their surroundings as they headed out onto the street.

“Something to do with an arms dealer. MI6 just said I’d meet you here and that you could be useful, though, they didn’t say how.”

Sam chuckled nervously. Great, so MI6 knows who I am as well, just perfect. He cleared his throat.  
“Did they…say anything about me?” 

“Nothing, just that you had useful knowledge of what we could be getting into.”  
Sam nodded. “Right…okay…great.” Sam sighed sharply as they walked out onto the main street.  
As they walked down the street, Sam’s phone buzzed, an unknown number text him…

“There is a black SUV waiting for you at Pancras Street, go find it. Failure to comply will result in undesirable consequences. We are following you.”  
Sam stopped moving, frowning at the message on his phone.

“We have a problem…”  
Alex turned to face him; Sam showed him the text.  
“Well this doesn’t sound great…come on, let’s go see what they want.” Alex said, pocketing his hands. Sam stared at him.  
“Are you nuts! You want to blindly walk into a trap?” Sam asked. Alex shrugged and nodded.

“Yep…don't have much of a choice do we?” He replied, before leaving Sam there, walking seemingly undisturbed to the black SUV that came into view, among others.  
This one stood out, at the side of the vehicle was a suited middle-aged man, staring at them, very intensely.  
“Are you certain about this?” Sam whispered, keeping his eyes on the man.

“I’m curious, besides we don’t know how threatening they are, I’m unimpressed really,” Alex replied, walking past Sam who looked around himself anxiously.  
He couldn’t see anyone following them. Was it an empty threat? 

“Alex wa-“ It was pointless, Alex was already heading to the car at a steady pace.  
With a restless groan, Sam reluctantly followed, picking up his pace, wincing as a jolting pain shot up his left leg, a consequence of not being careful enough when he walked.  
Finally reaching the side of the vehicle, the suited man opened the back door and Alex climbed in, Sam didn’t follow.

“Don’t make this hard for yourself boy…if you leave now we’ll have to dispose of you…and it won’t be pretty.”  
He made his mind up and promptly climbed in beside Alex, passing him his cane.

The driver in-front paid them no notice as he waited for the suited man to sit beside him.

Once inside, the SUV they drove off in complete silence. Sam dared not look at Alex for fear he’d easily show his uneasiness.  
He didn’t even look out the window, just down at his shoes and let the silence consume them until they arrived at their destination. He was constantly running through his head the possible events that could take once they arrived. Needless to say, he didn’t like most of them…

After a tense two hours, Sam looked out the window as he noticed the car slowing down and stopping. They were in a garage, white-walled and completely bare, no items of interest except the light switch and button for the garage door. 

“We will return later.” The man said, exiting the vehicle with the driver. The two men left the garage closing the only other entrance behind them, a bolted wooden door.  
“Well now what?” Sam asked as he began looking around the vehicle, for something, anything that could get them out of their leather tomb.

“I have something that might help” Alex replied, taking a pen out his pocket.  
“Oh…what are you gonna do with a pen, draw an SOS?” He asked, tilting his head as Alex took off the lid and began drawing on the window, leaving red ink all around the glass rim.

“Watch,” Alex said.  
To Sam’s amazement, the ink began fizzing and glowing orange. The glass fizzed and screeched from the heat until it left a clean cut around the whole window. With a push from Alex’s hand, the glass clattered onto the floor.

“That’s…so cool!” Sam whispered, following Alex as he climbed out the window.

“Need a hand?” Alex asked, offering his hand through the window, guessing Sam might need help out.  
Sam reluctantly nodded and took Alex’s hand, pulling himself out of the car, grabbing his cane from inside once he had climbed out.  
“Thanks.” 

“No worries.”

“What now?” 

“I don’t know, what about you, Fake Bond, any ideas?”  
Sam chuckled dryly. “None…” he replied, limping up to the far right of the room and tracing his hand along the wall.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked, coming up behind him.

“Looking for something not normal.” He replied

“Oh, let me help.” Alex offered.

The two slowly and methodically examined the walls, scanning every crack and brick for anything unusual.  
“Found something!” Alex called after a few brief minutes from the other end of the garage, inspecting an oddly placed brick in the wall.

"Looks pressable," Sam said, still anxiously staring around with a nagging worry they would be discovered.

Alex pressed the 'pressable' brick, and sure enough the wall began to part slightly, revealing a marble stairway going down flight after flight, lightbulbs flicked on, revealing the staircase seemed to be more like a pit than anything resembling a staircase.

"Well...this'll be fun." Sam groaned.

"Yup, come on," Alex said, starting to head down the looming staircase.  
Sam muttered to himself after pressing the brick on the opposite side, closing them in...


	2. Russian Abundance

The henchman stood in the hallway of his masters’ mansion-house, dressed prim and proper in a suit, much like the driver that had accompanied him, who stood behind him. The driver of the SUV stood by the door, his arms placed languidly by his sides while his eyes snaked around the hallway at the various glass cabinets, littered with parchments, memorabilia from Charinov’s travels including an assortment of antiques, war diaries, and historical weaponry.  
In his hands, Charinov held an engraved Colt 1911. He chuckled as he heard a maid open the door to his suite, carrying his breakfast. Eggs on toast, a simple breakfast for a man with grand ambitions, at least, this is what Charinov told himself. He paid no attention to her as she entered and left, his eyes entirely affixed on the weapon in his hand. He hummed in satisfaction and placed the weapon in his draw.

He took a content glance around his room, looking at one of the two canvas paintings contained inside. To his right was a painting of Peter The Great, one of the many Russian Tsars, and to his left was a photo of his Father Dmitri Charinov. With a content sigh, the man dug into his breakfast.

A knock on his door.

“Come in.” 

It was his henchman, he had just received a phone-call and was pocketing his mobile.  
"How long until our client arrives?" Charinov asked, rubbing his beard.  
"1 hour." The old man replied, clearing his throat, "are there any preparations you would desire, sir?" He clasped his hands, watching as Charinov slowly turned and walked up to him.  
"Yes...call Morevsky, I want access to his employers, tell him I have a deal for him.  
The old man walked his way up to the desk, one of his hands reaching under the table; Charinov mused as he understood immediately what the other man was doing.  
"Why do you?" The old man asked. "Morevsky doesn't like you, nor would his employers."  
"A bond. A bond to old commonalities. When he sees what I have, I'm certain we will repair what we lost!" He looked over to the driver, who was standing upright, like a sergeant.  
"Is there...a problem?” Charinov glared as his driver barged into his office unannounced, his face white, gripping a phone.  
"Who is this?" Charinov demanded, licking his lips in anticipation as he snatched the phone away from his driver.  
"I had a feeling you would be up to something of note." The voice on the other end was Morevsky's. "I had my sources do some digging and found you had an...interesting operation. I will be arriving soon." The phone went dead.  
Charinov slammed the phone on his desk in anger! "How does he know of my operations!" He snarled, spitting as he spoke.  
The driver went white in the face. Now that he thought about it, this pathetic muse was of course…a nobody.  
He turned on the driver. "You tipped him off didn't you!" He snapped in Russian.  
The driver quivered and Charinov's eyes lit up like a fire, a dangerous malice present.  
"No...not yet...I still have uses for you." Charinov mused, smiling nefariously. "Grab the boys." He ordered.  
The driver went off to the garage, followed by Charinov and his henchman. When they arrived, the site of the empty car angered Charinov to a bloodthirsty rage. Without hesitation, he drew a pistol from his coat and shot the driver in the head. His body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, cheap and expendable.  
He turned to the unaffected man beside him. "Find them!" He growled, slamming his fist against the car bonnet.


	3. Gadgetry and Alarms

It had been maybe ten minutes since the two agents had been descending the stairs, and they were still going. Sam was not impressed.  
"How much more...?" Sam asked, feeling as if this was his personal torment.  
"I'm sure there isn't much more." Alex tried reassuring, Sam was having none of it.  
Sam groaned started going faster, having a hatred of stairs. Alex shook his head and calmly followed after him.  
After multiple flights more, they finally arrived at a large set of metal doors, with a keypad on the side, the door was locked, despite them wishing it wasn’t. 

“Got any more fancy gadgets?” Sam asked, looking over to Alex, who shrugged. 

“Not for solving passwords unfortunately.” He looked down, seemingly rather annoyed.

“Wow…MI6 treat you well don’t they…” Sam replied in shock, Alex didn’t reply, Sam realised he’d only further irritated him, as if there was something Alex was trying to forget. He slowly turned away and started pressing keys. 

“1, 2, 3, 4.” He whispered as he entered the code. The words, “ACCESS DENIED!” came on screen, followed by a beeping sound. He turned back at Alex and smiled nervously, he was met with a scowl.   
“Sorry! It was worth a try.” Sam said, backing away slightly as Alex knelt down, looking around the door handle and finding nothing. He wished Smithers had given him the gum he had used on his first mission against Herod Sayle, but with Smithers gone, he had had little time to prepare, and the new gadget man was nowhere near as useful as Smithers had been. He sighed in frustration.  
“What about the pen?” Sam suggested.   
“Doesn’t work on anything with a higher density than glass.”

“Damn…so what n- I have an idea!” Sam sprung into action, going to the door’s lock mechanism; pressing a button on his cane made the handle lift back to reveal a small robotic like object. It was silver and round, emitting a small sound every two seconds, like a pulse.

“Okay Fake Bond, mind telling me what that thing is?” Alex asked, his curiosity piqued, as if he had never been agitated the moment before.

 

“This is…a device used for short-circuiting lights, no reason why it shouldn’t work here.” He said, approaching the keypad. The pulse started getting louder and faster, until numbers started popping up like on a slot machine, until an automated text read.   
“ACCESS GRANTED!”  
“I’m surprised it works for keypads, they said nothing about this…” Sam wondered why he hadn’t been told about everything…what else could his gadgets do? After all, the man who had made these adjustments to his cane had been paid for by…George Riltz. He smiled grimly at the thought.  
“They didn’t tell you every feature of your gadgets? That’s mismanagement there.” Alex said, nudging his arm. “Come on, let’s see what they have here.” Alex had to hand it to Sam, the cane was certainly very useful, he almost wanted one himself.

He went past Sam to the door and opened it, their eyes widened at the sight they were met with.

They were in a room the size of two football fields, marble tile lay underfoot and the walls were adorned with all manner of weapons: rifles, pistols, auto and semi-auto weapons, knives, knuckle dusters, grenades and more. There was enough here for a small army.

“Whoever this guy is…he’s got some serious firepower.” Sam commented, in complete awe of the collection.  
The two slowly walked down the room, observing everything on display, becoming filled with a sense of dread. When Sam stepped on a pressured tile.

A blaring alarm sounded and shouts could be heard above them as Sam cursed. The boys glanced at each other and broke into a run. Things were about to get a whole lot hairier.


	4. Legal Theft

“You realise we’re probably running into a dead end Alex!?” Sam shouted over the wailing siren.

“Most likely!” Alex yelled back.  
The boys continued running until they reached the end of the room, however, they were in luck, a doorway lead into another set of rooms, not wanting to waste time Alex kicked the wooden door down and ran through, Sam yelped as he heard the crackling of gunshots split the air as he was fired upon. He quickly ran through and followed after Alex. The corridor lead to a large spaced room, it seemed like a private bar. Unfortunately, there were patrons and guards. 

“Well…uh…hey!” Sam sauntered into the bar as both he and Alex were glared at.

Down the corridor there came a shout. “AFTER THEM!”

“Sam, run!” Alex yanked Sam’s wrist and practically dragged him through the bar as a commotion erupted into a cacophony of shouts, guns being grabbed and narrowly missing gunshots. 

“We’re certainly quite the party crashers aren’t we?” Alex said as he pulled the other through into the main hallway, adorned with suits of armour, old-fashioned weapons and guns.

“Yeah, except I don’t see our entry hole,” Sam replied worriedly, looking around as he saw a lever mechanism on the wall. It seemed to be connected to another part of the wall. “Found something!” He said, pulling the wooden lever out towards himself. 

The wall with the suit of armour seemed to turn, the two found themselves in an entirely different part of the mansion, this place seemed to be a lounge. Comfy chairs, a rug, a fireplace and a desk to one side. Once the wall finished positioning itself, Sam broke the handle on the other side, smashing it with his cane.

“Good find, hopefully that gives us some time,” Alex said as he headed up to the desk, opening drawers and to find anything incriminating. Sam meanwhile proceeded to head to the doorway and peeked through the keyhole, he also checked the door. Locked. They seemed to have some time, for now.

“Well this is something.” He said, hastily taking a handful of letters from the drawer as Sam looked around the room for means of escape. The only door lead back out into the main hallway. However, the windows did lead out into a field.

By now they could hear shouting as one of the henchmen began banging on the door

“Come on!” Sam said, smashing one of the windows open with his cane. The glass shattered fractionally, so he hit it again, this time a large hole greeted him, though glass still remained on the wooden frame. Without much caution he pushed himself out, cutting his hands on the remaining glass after throwing his cane out onto the field. He’d never been much of a runner, or a parkour type person. He was a much better speaker and analyser. He didn’t know how he was of any use to RISC, but then he remembered. This was probably a mission that was intended to be his last. Admittedly this didn’t fill him with so much hope.

Alex rather easily jumped through the window without such a scratch, only making Sam feel like he was showing off. 

Before he could say anything, the door was bust open and the man, armed with a silver 9mm began firing shots. Sam ducked, taking off to the left and continuing through a field of thick grass and fences, towards a forest. Alex followed after him. They continued on until they were well into the forest. Sam tripped on a rock and ungracefully faceplanted, panting. Alex ran over and picked him up.

Both panting, they rest against a tree, Sam coughed and looked over at Alex who was quietly reading the notes he’d stolen from Charinov’s desk.

“You alright?” He asked, not bothering to look up at Sam who didn’t reply. Sam sighed and leaned back against the tree, holding his forehead in his hand, now marked with an ugly bruise.

“Hey, Fake Bond? Are you alright?” Alex asked again, finally looking up from the notes with a slight frown etched across his face.

“Yeah…I’m alright.” Sam replied disgruntled, looking down at the diagonal bloody cut on his other hand.   
“No…you’re not. You’re grumpy and have a bleeding cut. Here,” he said, tossing Sam a roll of bandage from his backpack. “What’s got you all worked up?” He asked.

Sam hissed in slight pain as he wrapped the bandage around his hand. “Nothing, I promise I’m fine!” 

“Then stop being grumpy.” Alex replied, before he went back to the notes.

Sam turned away from him and looked up at the sky, it was starting to get dark now. He was glad they had lost their pursuers. At least now he could breathe, come up with some sort of a plan…or just sit here and continue feeling sorry for himself. No, to hell with that. He started thinking. Could he contact RISC, or MI6 perhaps, get more help. They seemed to be in over their heads…or at least he was.

“Hey, Sam, you might want to look at this.” Alex said, beckoning him over.  
Broken from his self-reflection he shuffled next to Alex and began reading, his eyes widened as he read further down:

‘I look forward to meeting with you, Mr. Charinov, and discussing further business. I have met with other associates to conclude our arrangement that we will meet on the 4th of November in order to arrange payment of six shipments of weapons, I will be arriving with payment in cash and hope that you may be satisfied.

Yours faithfully. 

A friend.’  
“Right, well we have a letter but who’s the sender?” Sam said aloud to himself, Alex chuckled. 

“Well I suppose we’ll have to go back and find out, won’t we?” Alex had a look of fire in his eyes.

“Oh…oh Alex no! We barely made it out of there alive and now you want to go back? Are you completely insane!?”

“No, I’m doing what I usually do.” Alex replied. “Well, maybe more than I usually would.” He sounded emotionless.

Sam frowned and looked over at him. “What on earth happened to you…?” He asked worriedly.

Alex looked down and sighed. “It’s a long story.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine, come on, we aren’t going to get anything done just sitting around,” Alex responded, cutting Sam off.

He walked off, leaving Sam there.


	5. A Hitman And A Snake

Sam stood up with his cane and followed after him. “Do you have a plan then?” Sam asked, glancing over at Alex who seemed to have a newfound determination and drive in him.

“We sneak around and see what we’re dealing with, from the outside in. Then, if we can, we find a way to destroy the weapons storage. After all we didn’t get a proper look of the place, and now we can.”

“Fair point,” Sam replied. “But what of the guards?”

“Well we’ll have to hope we don’t get caught so easily as we did last time.”

“If I remember, that was your ingenious idea, Alex.” Sam said, elbowing him.

“Shush.” Alex elbowed him back harder.

“Ow...alright” Sam winced slightly. 

They continued back through the forest, being careful to avoid patrols that were combing through the woodland, using trees and a swift pace the two were able to outmanoeuvre the guards and continued back through to the field, neither of them spoke as they made their way up a hillside that passed the field, this led to a cliff which gave the two a full view of the mansion grounds, Alex had noted it when they headed out towards the forest and suggested it as an alternative to his original plan, which wasn’t really any plan at all.   
After an arduous climb, the two finally reached the top of the cliffside overlooking the mansion. It was enormous in scale, imagine the size of two Olympic stadiums as a house. 

Alex took a pair of binoculars from his rucksack and began observing each room in the mansion in a thorough manner. He saw servants prepping food, more guards, patrolling all the entrances and exits, heavily armed to boot, dressed in black combat gear with red berets. He lay there for an hour with the binoculars, Sam meanwhile waited anxiously. Wondering why he was not equipped with surveillance gear.

“Over there!” Sam whispered, pointing to the gateway.  
Two cars, were pulling into the driveway. Alex shifted his view to observe the cars. One was a grey Audi RS6, the other, a black BMW M2. Both had tinted windows, and both contained yet more guards. However, two suited men exited from the end of each vehicle, the comparison between them both was striking to Alex. One was certainly much older, skinnier and almost frail looking, with a steel-like expression that he carried as he spoke. 

The other was a muscly dark-haired man who seemed to be in peak condition, he brandished a red signet ring on his left hand, and a nasty set of knuckledusters on his right.

“Know these men?” Alex asked, passing Sam the binoculars so he could see for himself.

Sam gasped, slowly passing Alex the binoculars.

“What is it?” Alex asked, perplexed. “Do you know them?”

“Yeah….both of them. The scary looking one is Morevsky, a dangerous gun for hire…the old guy is…was…my boss, George Riltz.” Sam growled in anger, he’d been set up and betrayed, his face reddened as he surged with rage.

“Wait, your boss! You mean the one who told you to work with me is…with them?!” For the first time, Sam saw Alex lose his composure, Sam nodded sadly.  
“Yes…it looks like it doesn’t it? I mean, he’s always had it in for me, the minute he became the head of RISC I knew he disliked me, suppose it was a plan to rid of me all along…” he said quietly.   
Alex frowned again, angry. Angry with Blunt for all the innocence he’d been made to lose. Angry with himself for letting Jack be…killed. 

But now angry at George. Sure Blunt was a completely dislikeable character, but he never betrayed MI6. For Sam’s boss to do this to him, then send him on a suicide mission was just unfathomable.

“What a bastard!” Alex growled. “I’ll make sure we bring him down if it’s one of the last things I do. Come on!” Alex stood up and helped Sam up, then retreated with him down back to the forest, back the way they came towards the field. He pulled out a small mobile and dialled a number.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked.

“Calling for help,” Alex replied, winking. One of the last thing’s he’d ever been given in secret by Smithers before he left was an SOS device, it would be sent straight to MI6, who would then send K-UNIT in for support.

“I have some good friends,” Alex whispered as they began to walk their way back to the mansion.  
“Oh do tell?” Sam asked, never able to get rid of his nerves in precarious situations.

“They’re called K-UNIT, a group of soldiers I trained with for my first mission.”

“Oh…Stormbreaker right?” Alex nodded.

“Mhm, they know their way around a fight.” Alex said, Sam smiled grimly.

“I hope so.”

As they continued through the field, Sam froze, hearing footsteps, before he was pounced upon. Before his attacker could land any blows, Alex retaliated with a sturdy kick to the man’s ribs. He grunted and fell off Sam, who grabbed his cane and swung for the man’s arm. The man grabbed the cane and stared at Sam, when his expression softened.

“Sam?” He asked, the voice immediately recognisable as the authoritative Astrin.

The boys stopped, confused.

“Wait…Astrin!?” Sam asked, just as confused as Alex. “I thought you were dead!” 

The man stood up and removed his beret, making sure he kept low himself. He was dressed in the mansion uniform the guards were wearing.

He was stern-faced and serious yet kind and understanding, and though he was in his early forties he had the physique and strength of someone much younger due to a rigorous training and exercise he had constantly undergone.

“Ok, you two clearly know each other but who are you?” Alex asked, looking more to Sam for an explanation.

“Astrin is…was the previous head of RISC before George fired him for supposed ‘mismanagement’,” Sam muttered. “What happened to you?” He turned to face Astrin.  
“I’m afraid it’s too long of a story to discuss here, but now that I see Riltz has put you upto this I have an idea.”

“I assume that, you being dressed in a guards uniform means you want us two to play the captured prisoner?” Sam asked.

“I have experience of that.” Alex joked, making the others chuckle.

“Yes, I’ll take you in and then take them down inside out.” He brought out two pairs of handcuffs. 

With a sigh, the two boys allowed themselves to be handcuffed and dragged back into the jaws of death once again. Only this time by a disgraced agent with a penchant for justice.


	6. An Angry Little Russian

“They were skulking around in the fields!” Charinov demanded in Russian, glaring at Astrin, whos plan so far, seemed to be working. There remained one question on Sam’s mind, tied upside down to a post. How the hell are we getting out of this!

Sam had no clue where they were, he guessed somewhere underneath the foundations of the mansion, due to the simple fact that it was freezing. He felt something abrasive rubbing against his back, guessing it was some ingeniously insane torture device, he also felt very light headed. He and Alex had been blindfolded on their way back and listened as Astrin had expertly bluffed his story of how he managed to coerce them to go with him after he held Alex at gunpoint. Astrin had a flawless Russian accent, as well as obvious knowledge of the language. Lucky as he was. Having been to Moscow and St. Petersburg on multiple occasions with his father, he too had some knowledge of what was being said. Something about a reward for Astrin, how everyone else he’d employed was incompetent, but he couldn’t make out anything else.   
After a rather brief conversation, he heard footsteps leave the area they were in. Sam forced his eyes shut as the blindfold was harshly ripped from his face and his eyes were met with a blaring light, emitted from a lamp at the back of the room. 

He opened his eyes once again to survey his surroundings. His assumptions had been false. They were cold because they were outside, and both tied to large willow trees, upside down, shirtless. 

“I feel extremely dignified,” Alex commented, before receiving the stock of a gun against his chest in response, he grunted in pain.  
Sam wasn’t in the mood for snarky remarks when like this. He took the chance to look around while Charinov focused on Alex. ‘Of course he would,’ Sam thought. ‘I’m just a nobody, Alex is someone very hated and disliked and brilliant at messing up everyone’s plans…while I’m brilliant at getting myself into messes and needing help to get out of them.’  
Self-depreciation over, Sam took his time to survey his unfortunate situation. They were tightly tied to the tree with strong rope. They wouldn’t get out of this easily.

“What do you know?!” Charinov snarled, spitting in Alex’s face.  
Alex moved his face to try avoid the onslaught of saliva that hit him. Up close, Charinov was really something. He was quite small, middle-aged, bald, only around five and a half feet tall, meaning he had to actually stand on his tiptoes as he guessed Astrin must have placed them high up to personally torment him. He stifled a laugh.

“Think something’s funny, child?!” Charinov roared, before punching Sam in the face.  
The pain was astonishing, not a normal punch, it was much more powerful. It was like having a hammer to the face, not a fist. Sam coughed and tasted blood, realising Charinov was wearing silver knuckledusters on his right hand. 

His face felt awful. A consistent throbbing ache. He reckoned his face would be swelling already. “I..I…” Sam tried to answer, before being screamed at again.

“CHILDREN, OF ALL THINGS THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT SENDS TWO SNIVELLING CHILDREN, AND ONE WHO CAN BARELY WALK!? I FEEL INSULTED!” Charinov glowered. 

Sam’s face twisted in anger staring down at the hobbit’s pale, dark haired face.

“I may be unable to walk, give me my cane and I’ll make you wish you could still piss yourself!” Sam growled.

Alex meanwhile listened quietly, he grimaced when Charinov threw a punch and considered himself lucky. Though a quick glance down revealed an ugly bruise. He dared not speak when Sam flew into a rage, he’d never known someone his age get so angry, other than Julius Grief…

“Is that so?” Charinov questioned, sneering. “Cut this brat down, give him his cane, let him do what he says.”  
He motioned for one of his men to cut Sam down, Sam immediately knew what he was dealing with. The kind of man who wouldn’t back down from any threat, an adrenaline seeker perhaps…much like himself in some respects. As he was pulled down, Sam heard a whisper. “Knock his teeth out!”  
He smiled and mentally thanked Alex for the encouragement as he was passed his cane from Astrin, who was understandably just wanting to rip Charinov to pieces, but he couldn’t not when there were at least four other guards secretly watching from a distance, in case the boys tried a second disappearing act, as well as the other two with Charinov. 

Sam took a defensive stance, gritting his teeth as he continued to feel seering pain. Astrin passed Sam his cane and almost immediately Charinov pounced.  
Sam flew himself out of the way and onto the floor, taking too long to stand, Charinov stood over him and began throwing more punches, two punches felt like two hundred, as a third was prepared, Sam connected a jab to his neck. A gagging Charinov fell off him and he made for his cane. He rolled along the floor, hearing his opponent growl. As he grabbed his cane he used the tree to pull himself up. As if he had been possessed, Charinov charged straight on, his mistake. Gripping his cane with both hands he thrust his cane straight into Charinov’s chest, hearing him wheeze. He grinned, until he was kicked in the leg and stumbled again. Still managing to grip his weapon, he brought it up just in time to block the man’s punch. An crack greeted Sam’s ears

“MY HAND! M-MY HAND!” Charinov screeched. Unfortunately for him, he’d punched an aluminium cane with his left hand. 

Sam slowly stood up to Charinov clutching his broken hand, he allowed himself a silent cheer of victory…little did he know he had made a grave mistake challenging Charinov, and winning.

He let off a roar of curses in Russian, before bounding to Sam. He’d made such a commotion that his henchman, and other guards had come rushing in, including Morevsky and Riltz. Astrin began slowly making a retreat.

Sam saw Riltz and winked as he saw the man’s face redden. Both men were flanked by atleast fifteen guards, who surrounded Sam, weapons aimed. He slowly raised his arms and looked up at Alex, who gave a sad smile. “Good fight.” He mouthed.

“TAKE HIM, TO ALEXEI!” Charinov yelled. “I WANT TO SEE HIM SUFFER!”   
The guards stiffened. One of the men shakily questioned in Russian.  
Charinov replied, making the man’s face go white. Whatever ALEXEI was, he wasn’t too keen on finding out.


	7. The Russian Bear

He was blindfolded again and was about to be marched off when he heard someone protest. He recognised it as Astrin, though he was speaking too fast for Sam to decipher what he was saying.

Then he heard something he dreaded.

“I know that man!” Riltz marched over and before Astrin could say anything, Riltz removed the beret from his head, unable to move from Rilt’z presence he cursed himself silently.

Morevsky nodded, and slowly aimed his weapon, a silenced Glock 17, he’d had it custom made with silver engravings of an eagle across the weapon’s frame. “Been a while, Astrin.” He said, unsmiling as ever. Astrin frowned and surrendered, Charinov cackled and had Astrin marched off site.

This plan had gone to hell. 

Sam was blindfolded yet again and marched off-site for what must have been a mile. When it was removed, his face went cold.

He was in the middle of a badly kept garden, the grass was down to the roots in patches and in need of reseeding. It was also dry in others. But that wasn’t what was scary.

Alexei was a massive bear, no…huge. He was covered in scars across his face and body, they looked quite painful and deep, yet the predator seemed unburdened as he lay asleep in a large metal cage.

“Have fun!” Sam heard the old man sneer, still dressed up like an old-fashioned butler. 

To his horror, he was thrown inside the cage, he immediately pressed himself far against the bars, trying to make as much room between himself and the bear as possible.

Then the guard jabbed the slumbering creature. It arose from its sleep like an angry dragon would if an intruder encroached its cave. It roared so loudly that birds from nearby trees scattered to escape the noise. Sam was breathing heavily, utterly terrified, too scared to move. 

The bear stood on its hind legs, sniffing the air, reaching what must have been an impressive ten feet.

It landed on the ground with a heavy thud and growled again as the old man began speaking again, he was grinning, enjoying himself. 

“You are in the presence of Alexei. He is a Russian Kamchatka bear. Named after our once great prince, Alexei Romanov, h-“

“Please shut up!” Sam hissed, pressing himself against the bars. 

“As you wish…” He replied, from above, a stack of fish was thrown next to Sam. 

He yelled out as the encroaching bear charged, but then suddenly stopped. Sam briefly opened his eyes and realised the bear was chained by its left hind leg.

The bear growled in anguish and began swiping, his deadly claws merely centimetres from shredding Sam’s face.  
After the longest five minutes of Sam’s life, the bear stopped trying and moaned, almost like a dog. It was angry, hungry.

It took a moment for Sam to realise. Catching glimpses of the bears’ eyes, he realised it was blind.

He was stuck in a cage with an angry, hungry, tortured, blind bear. ‘What a fantastic situation….’ He joked mentally, though it had no effect. This had gone all wrong, Astrin had been uncovered, himself and Alex were both captured, and there was no visual of this K-UNIT Alex had spoken of. 

He shivered as the rain started to fall, wishing he had a shirt on. Unluckily for him, this agitated the bear, who began charging again. Sam started screaming.

 

Alex had been taken down and escorted back to the mansion by a trio of armed men. He was then tossed in a small shower room, it was plain, no windows, just a shower with white walls. “Get cleaned up.” He heard a guard command. He did as he was told. His head was spinning, he hadn’t thought things through clearly. After what had happened in Egypt he’d lost a part of himself he couldn’t recover. He had become too reckless and he’d only realised it too late. After a very quick, yet warm shower, he found two pairs of fresh clothes. A crisp white shirt and complementary dark trousers and shoes to match. 

He guessed one pair must be…or have been for Sam until he started the fight. He hoped Sam would be alright, Alex knew now he could handle himself when he needed to, he had to admit he didn’t think he was as capable as he had proven, he stood corrected.

He took a quick glance in the mirror and frowned, he was reminded of Sarov…Julia Rothman….and Paul. Why was he always invited to dinner or a tea party by diabolical nutcases?

A now smartly dressed Alex was led down the hallway he and Sam had once tried to escape, they passed the broken mechanism and armoured suits before heading down another separate corridor into a large spacious dining hall. Alex gritted his teeth as a sudden jolt of pain reminded him. You were shot a year ago. It was a warm room he found himself in, well lit by chandeliers overhead. A large canvas painting of a bear stood behind Charinov, labeled ‘Alexei.’ Alex grimaced, feeling even worse than he was moments before. Charinov was seated at the end of the wooden table, (nursing his broken hand) which lay adorned with plates and cutlery. The man who had sussed Astrin out, who Alex realised was Riltz, sat on Charinov’s left. The man with the fancy gun sat in the middle of the table, away from the two. His gun lay face down on the table, loaded and ready to use in a moments notice.

The old henchman stood behind Alex’s seat, before he was ordered to pour drinks for the few that were there, including a few faces, about four that he recognised from the bar.

One of these men looked eerily similar to Sam himself, albeit much older, in his early forties.

“Welcome all…” Charinov began. “I speak for us all when I say we are sorely disappointed by the British governments’ attempts to stop us. Not just MI6, but now I hear from my dear friends, Riltz and Thomas, that there’s another organisation named RISC.” He gestured to the two men, before looking at Alex. “I have a proposition for you.”

“No thanks, I don’t want to marry you.” Alex replied, without much emotion.

The men in the room laughed, sinisterly.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Charinov informed, “Your friends’ lives depend on you…Alex Rider.” 

Alex made no comment, Charinov continued.

“I have a one time offer for you.” He took a drink as he was poured a glass of white wine by his henchman, who then disappeared off into another room, perhaps a kitchen.  
“Forget the boy-“

“Sam…” The mysterious dark-haired man cut in.

Charinov smiled, though he looked angry he’d been interrupted.

“Forget Sam, forget his friend…forget all of this business, and go home. We won’t chase you down, as long as you don’t say anything.   
“Will you let Sam go if I agree?” He asked. 

Charinov looked over to the mysterious man again. “If his father agrees…then yes.”

“I do.” Came the man’s reply.

Alex’s face stiffened. Why would Sam’s own father…if this was true, be working with someone like Charinov. He hoped that this was a ploy to free them. 

“Excellent! But first, let’s eat.” Charinov clapped his good hand on the table and an assortment of lamb, chicken, beef, venison and even shark meat was brought out. A lavish roast dinner.

This didn’t feel right, he was having food and meanwhile, Sam was…wherever. He didn’t even touch his plate when he spoke up.

“I’ll only agree if I can see that Sam is alive.” He announced. 

Charinov seemed greatly amused. “Very well..” he motioned to his henchman, who set off to go find Sam. “If that’s what’ll make you happy.” He grinned.


	8. Allegiance With A Hitman

Sam had been stranded outside in the rain and cold for at least forty-five minutes by now, he was shivering, his back ached from being awkwardly pressed against the bars for such a long time. He had had relief for the last few minutes as the bear finally stopped and had fallen asleep. He slowly moved on his hands and legs, pushing the fish towards the bear, so that he would hopefully be left alone if it awoke again.

“What a mess…” He heard the old man say. 

He tutted. “Pitiful child.” He scolded, “had enough?” 

Sam merely nodded and scrambled out as the cage was unlocked. No one spoke as he was marched back to the mansion, and like Alex, told to shower and dress. He took his time but was unable to wash his face due to the pain. Blood and mud rinsed off him and down the drain. He risked a glance in the mirror once he had finished. He gasped. His face had swollen up terribly. His cheek had gone a horrible purple, as well as a cut on his forehead that had swollen over his left eye, which only now he realised, made it slightly harder to see. 

He spoke, which was also difficult, he just slurred, which frustrated him, and he also had lost his cane. He grunted angrily, feeling vulnerable and almost hopeless. But with Alex out there he wanted to make sure he got them both out, if he even could.  
After a short wait, the henchman went back to collect Sam and, with two guards flanking Sam’s sides, escorted him to the table. The whole room just stared at him as he came in, he looked awful. 

“What are you shtaring at!?” He spluttered, glaring at them all.   
They chuckled at his newfound difficulty to speak. He growled and sat down, before being spoken to. “Did you enjoy meeting Alexei?” Charinov asked in amusement.  
“Yeah…real charming, apart from when he tried to rip my face off.” He sneered.  
He was sat down, next to his father. When he realised this he paled. He glanced over at Alex who just stared off blankly. 

“Now…Alex here has signed an agreement with me, haven’t you Alex?”

“I haven’t signed anything.” 

“No…no you haven’t but you said you would agree once you saw your friend alive, and he is. Are you off then?” Charinov demanded. 

Alex slowly stood up from his chair and found one of the guards holding his belongings and clothes, he slowly walked off with the guard and could sense Sam’s hurt expression. He shook his head and looked down, walking out the door.

Just like that, Alex left…

Sam’s lips quivered, he’d been dumped…not dumped, abandoned by…well…he considered Alex a friend. 

“How unfortunate…” Charinov chuckled. “Say, Thomas, …what do you think…?” 

“I think he needs a lesson…” Replied Sam’s father.

“Indeed, after all he’s ill-mannered.”

Yet again, Sam was hoisted off, except this time he heard three words he most certainly did not want to.

“Morevsky, kill him.”

Sam’s eyes went blank in the next few minutes. He was marched off-site, wearing a black mask over his head, hands tied behind his back until he was at least far enough away from the mansion to satisfy its owner, he felt the sensation of wood against his back, as well as the aching pain in his feet and began sweating. He heard Morevsky conversing with the two men. After a short while, he heard Morevsky raise his gun. 

The shot echoed through the air.

Alex heard the gunshot and flinched. He couldn’t have just sent Sam to an early grave, could he?! This wasn’t part of his plan! He was too slow, he’d wanted to get Sam out after all. He clenched his fists as he was marched through the main gates, his rucksack across his back with a car waiting for him. He was so distracted by his inner thoughts that he tripped over a pebble and fell backwards into one of the guards, he fell slowly onto the floor, quickly stood up and dusted himself off. The guard merely pushed him away, towards the car.

He sat in the back, behind the henchman, in the same leather seated SUV that had driven the boys to this hell hole in the first place. As the car took off out of view of the mansion, Alex slowly brought out the pistol from his pocket. It was heavy in his hands, but he’d held one before. In a single swift motion, he pressed the cold metal barrel against the driver’s head. 

“You little-“

“Shut up, or else I’ll shoot. Drive me back there. Now!” He demanded.

With a grunt, the henchman obliged, turning the car around, doing as Alex commanded. 

“I don’t want to be noticed, take me to a back entrance.” Once the man had done so, Alex quickly subdued him, slamming the pistol grip against the man’s temple. He took the keys from the man’s pocket and stopped the car. Once the engine cut off he slowly stepped out, brandishing the firearm. He reckoned it was loaded, however, he had only fired a gun on two occasions, and didn’t like the idea of willingly killing someone, unless he had to.

He was in another part of the mansion altogether, a garage with various cars from famous manufacturers. Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Koenigseggs and Jaguars were all lined up in various colours. The floor was tiled and the walls, most unexcitedly were pristine white.

Alex glanced around the room, when he heard voices, crouching by the side of one of the sports vehicles and listened in.  
“Why are you doing this?” Came a weary voice, it was Sam!   
Alex felt his heart lighten after hearing his voice but didn’t move, he wanted to know who Sam was speaking to.

“Vengeance, Charinov is a manipulative fool who revels in disgusting behaviour and your father tried to have me killed to avoid paying me, though he keeps denying it.” The man had a very bitter way of speaking. As if the whole world were seemingly against him. He risked a peek and couldn’t believe what he saw. The Russian, the man he had seen at the dinner table was now with Sam. He came out of hiding and headed up to them.

“Hello.” Alex called out, unsure how he would be responded to.  
Morevsky immediately raised his gun, only to slightly lower it when he realised who it was.  
Sam frowned. “You…left me in there, because I was useless to you!” He looked close to crying, not because he was angry, but because he was in shock.

Alex looked down, before he could reply, Morevsky interrupted him. “We don’t have time for this, we have to get out.” He started walking away, when Sam spoke up again. 

“Wait, Morevsky what about Astrin?!” Sam asked.  
With a frustrated sigh, the Russian turned on his around and beckoned the boys through. “Fine! But after this, you two are both leaving!”   
The boys nodded in agreement and followed after Morevsky.  
Sam didn’t bother to look at Alex, he was infuriated, would he really just abandon someone he’d met for his own sake…how far would he go to do so?

“You’re sounding better,” Alex commented softly, receiving no reply.   
He sighed, following after the others, keeping his eyes behind them to make sure they wouldn’t be surprised from the rear. Morevsky led them to yet another area of the mansion

As they ascended a set of stairs that brought them up to another floor, they were greeted with multiple guards. This area was much different from the vibrant, warm and wooden areas of the floors below. It looked like a police interrogation area. The walls were painted in greys and blues, giving an unsettling chilled feel. Sam couldn’t help but feel déjà vu from when he had first come into contact with RISC, Astrin who was head of the department at the time had interrogated him in a similarly intimidating setting. 

As for Alex, he was reminded of when he was taken to the police after dropping a boat through a conference meeting. Strange times. 

They took cover behind a wall and looked through the doorway, the two guards seemed to be patrolling what looked like holding cells. Morevsky glanced over at Sam. 

“Stay here.” He ordered. “Alex, can you help me?” He asked.

“Hey!” Sam protested, “I can fight.” He hissed.

“Yes, you can, but I want you out alive, not dead.” He replied, looking at Alex shrugged. 

“Charming, I’m a sacrificial lamb.”   
Morevsky rolled his eyes, and on his order, began a coordinated attack on the guards with Alex.

Though he was a trained killer, he didn’t need or want to be identified as having helped with an escape, so when he reached his opponent he put them in a chokehold, as Alex used a much simpler kick to the back of the man’s head, causing him to simply drop to the floor. 

The other soon went limp in Morevsky’s arms. He picked up the body and carried it, whilst Alex dragged the other by his legs. The two bodies were left in one of the cells since Alex had stolen the key from the henchman, he locked the door and Morevsky called after Sam. He received no answer.

“Sam!?” He called out as quietly as he could muster with his short temper. 

Still nothing…  
“Well…hello gentlemen.” Morevsky and Alex turned round to see the old man, with Sam in his arm, a knife to the boy’s neck, already drawing blood.   
It was at moments like this, Sam wished he had his cane. Morevsky, without hesitation, raised his pistol. Alex studied Sam, he wasn’t scared, he was angry. More than that…there was something in his eyes…He’d seen it himself, after Jack had been killed…

“Let the child go!” Morevsky demanded, the man laughed and shook his head. 

“Oh…” He laughed. “So you can shoot me? I’d rather not.” The man replied, grinning cruelly  
Alex wasn’t having this, he brought out the gun he had used to knock the man out and fired. A loud bang echoed throughout the whole floor. The man screamed and clutched his leg, freeing Sam from his grasp, who quickly ran off to the other two.

Before any of them could speak, the security in the surrounding area was upon them. They began to run, Morevsky fired back at the attackers, at least six were after them, he fired two shots and hit two men dead center in the chest with robotic accuracy, they didn’t even have time to register the shot before they died. The other four opened up with their automatic weapons, sporting scoped German HK433’s, weapons that were only publicly released a year ago. How a man such as Charinov got a hold of these only made Sam grimace as he flung himself behind a wall with Morevsky, Alex was on the opposite side, slowly taking a path away from the onslaught of gunfire. Morevsky tried firing on the attackers but was unable to move without a ripple of lead slamming into the wall that defended him. 

A brief ripple of gunfire rang out amongst the already deafening chorus of death, and then very abruptly, silence.


	9. Old Friends And Old Enemies

Morevsky was panting, he turned round to see Sam had gone to look for an alternative route, but had no way of accessing it. Since he couldn’t spot Alex, he guessed he’d either skulked off or been found, what did it matter anyway? Sam was his goal, not Alex. 

He slowly looked round the corner to find two men, standing in-front of Alex in a protective manner. Both looked, for lack of a better word, soldierly, they seemed to have something behind them.  
After a brief confrontation, the two men relaxed their guard, introducing themselves as Wolf and Fox. They explained briefly that they were Alex’s “protection service,” as they put it. 

Morevsky nodded and grabbed Sam. “Great, thanks for the help but we need to go.” He said, hurrying past the men, with Sam by his side, or rather, dragging him by the shoulder.

“Not so fast.” Wolf ordered, training his weapon on Morevsky. 

“What is it!?” He growled, Sam looked back and forth at the altercation, and saw Alex staring at him, with a look on his face.  
Determination, determination for what, though? Sam thought.  
“Cub has asked that he be handed over to us.” The man gestured with his rifle to Sam.

Morevsky raised an eyebrow…if Sam was released this would ruin his plan for vengeance. Sam slowly started limping upto the three males.

“Sam, don’t.” Morevsky ordered. 

He stopped, Morevsky continued. 

“I refuse to rescue Astrin, unless you do as I ask.” He said, not taking his eyes off the two armed men. There was something in his voice, that wasn’t just a threat, but desparation. 

“We have him, the other man, Fox replied.  
They moved to the side slightly to show Astrin, hunched over by a wall, he looked horrific, there was no doubt that he had been tortured on account of his wounds. They had evidently sneaked their way in through another entrance and rescued Astrin before Morevsky could. 

He slowly clenched his fists and marched off, the two men relaxed their weapons. As if events were repeating themselves, an alarm rang off, and the trio were whisked off by the members of K-UNIT to a secure breach they had made using a strong flammable paste that had burnt silently through the walls of the palace, leaving a big O shaped hole. 

“MOVE IT!” They ordered, hearing footsteps clamour down towards the opening.  
A sea of black camo against a set of blue walls approached the two men. One began opening fire so that Fox, supporting Astrin could get the three to safety. After placing Astrin in an armoured SUV with the boys, before shouting over to his comrade who was under heavy fire.

“ALL CLEAR!” He roared, before throwing a smoke grenade, along with Wolf to cover their escape. The two rushed to the vehicle and slammed the door shut, before the vehicle promplty sped off, leaving the mansion of horrors behind.

\---

London: MI6 HQ

“It is unfortunate-“ Blunt began, before being interrupted by a seething Alex.

“Unfortunate! I had almost no gadgets, and then other agent with was a disabled kid, whose gadgets were also inadequate, on top of that I had no planning for the mission!”

Blunt observed Alex through his thick rimmed glasses, before speaking. Mrs Jones was next to him and spoke next.

“Alex, after Ja-“

“Don’t bring her into this!” He snarled, his face going extremely red.

Mrs Jones sighed and spoke up again. “After Smithers left, we told you things wouldn’t be as they were, we thought that having another agent onboard would be an adequate compromise. We also were unable to help with planning due to the short notice-” 

Alex glowered at her. “He was disabled, I wasn’t supposed to be his babysitter, was I? Alex demanded, cutting her off.

“I don’t believe you were.” Blunt commented. “I’m sorry Alex but we can’t give you the help you need simply because people know what we’re doing now. They know who you are, meaning that your age is no longer a weapon we can use.” 

“Then let me go back to school!” He demanded, Blunt shook his head slowly.  
“You’re too good at this, simply for us to let you go Al-“

He slammed the door shut and left the office, finding Sam waiting for him outside.

“How did you-!!” Alex yelled, ready to explode once again, before he saw Agent Crawley with him. 

“Mr Blunt asked to see him.” Crawley informed, Alex looked over at Sam. His face had gone cold, before he slowly limped inside, throwing aside the cane he had been handed by Crawley. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the one he’d been given by RISC.

After a brief conversation on with Blunt, it became pretty clear that he was looking to exploit Sam as well, but thankfully for him, unlike Alex, they had no power over him, only RISC did. 

Could he even go back after what happened? He didn’t know. He just hoped that he wasn’t wrong with what he thought. As much as he admired Alex, he did not envy him.

A few minutes later, and a silent Alex led Sam to a nearby hotel that MI6 had paid for him to use while he stayed in London. He grabbed his room key from the desk of the dingy lit reception area, being greeted by an unsmiling receptionist, before going to his room on the second floor.  
He flung himself on the bed, and let out a lengthy groan, muffled by his bedsheets. Sam didn’t say anything, instead he looked around the room for a moment. The walls were painted cream, but looked more yellow due to the dim, artificial lighting that lit up the room. There was a small TV placed on a desk with a chest of drawers to the side. A kettle and ingredients for coffee or tea. Finally a floor to ceiling door that was made almost entirely of glass, which showed the miserable greyed city street below.

Sam sighed and slumped on the side of the bed, neither of them spoke for quite a while. Sam was too upset from hearing Alex and Alex was….he didn’t understand really why Alex was so angry, of course MI6 were one reason…but was he the other? He didn’t want to ask.   
“I’m going to grab some food…” Sam said quietly. 

He unlocked the door and left, heading down to the ground floor, without his cane, which he left in the room. It was around 6pm when he entered the cafeteria. There were families and other groups of people scattered around at tables, laughing, eating, drinking.

Sam limped over to the counter, before realising he had no money and grumbled. He gave up and sat at a table, burying his face in his arms and staying silent for a long while, before his emotions caught up with him. He cried into his shirt, criticising himself for everything. He couldn’t save Alex, or Astrin, who had been tortured because of him. He couldn’t help Alex with the mission and he just felt…useless…He ignored the plaster round his neck that he had received for the knife wound when K-UNIT took Astrin to hospital, as well as the copious amounts of ice for his bruises, and let the tears flow. No one seemed to notice him…like always, he was unnoticable, a ghost among people…

“Hey…” Sam felt a hand on his shoulder.   
He looked up to see Alex staring down at him, smiling sadly. 

“What…why-?“ Sam quickly sat upright and rubbed his eyes as Alex placed a tray on the table, containing two mugs of hot chocolate, he tossed Sam a wad of tissue, sitting down and waiting patiently as Sam wiped his eyes.

After he finished, Sam tried to act as if he were completely fine, Alex saw right through it, he sighed softly.  
“I’m sorry…” Alex murmured, reminded all too well of himself as he saw Sam in such a state.  
Sam dismissively shook his head after taking a sip of the sweet drink, “No, it’s ok.” He said. “If anything it’s my fault, I slowed you down, got in your way and-“

“Broke a man’s hand, escaped a giant bear and being shot, if anything I’d say you’re like me. Luck of the devil.”

Sam looked up at him curiously, about to ask how Alex knew about the bear.

“Canvas painting in the dining room, didn’t you see it?” Alex asked.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “I was too busy being angry.”

He looked across the cafeteria until his eyes settled on a flickering candle on a nearby candle. He watched for a moment, allowing the light to cloud his senses.  
“Hey…you’re cool alright, promise!” Alex said, clicking his fingers in Sam’s eyes to bring him back to reality.

Sam shrugged. “I guess.” His voice held no emotion, worrying Alex, he didn’t want to see another person turn out like he was.   
They sat in silence until they finished their drinks, once back in the room they sat next to each other on the bed.

“I’m sorry too…” Sam whispered, garnering a concerned look from Alex. 

“Don’t apologise, there’s no need. I’m just…a-after.” Alex trailed off

Sam watched as Alex sighed and stared out the window, utterly emotionless, stone cold. 

“Nothing…it’s nothing.” He said quietly, “just go to bed Sam.”


	10. Place Of Death Or Place Of Healing?

6am, Alex was the first to wake up. He had a shower and got dressed in some jeans and a thick navy blue jumper.

He stayed in the room and played quietly on his Nintendo DS, it wasn’t the one he’d used on missions, it was his own. A gift from Sabina.

It wasn’t until 7:30 that Sam stirred, yawned and sat up, stretching. “Morning.” Alex said.

Sam twisted round and gave a tired nod before showering himself, he was stuck wearing the shirt again, much to his bemusement. “They have my stuff.” He said aloud in frustration.

Alex turned round and sat beside Sam. “I know, but hey, I can always buy you something you need, I have money.” 

“Yeah I’m sure you do, I just…” He stopped and stood up, languidly limping to a mirror that lay on the wall to observe himself.

“What?” Alex asked, going through his backpack.

“What do we do, I mean, we failed didn’t we?”

“No.” Alex said as he threw something to Sam. “Here,” he passed Sam a small white card, with a number on.  
“Whose number is this?” 

“Mine, stupid!” Alex chuckled. “I have to go see MI6 again today.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. “And they don’t want you there.”

“Well alright, are you off then?” 

Alex nodded. “Yep, see you later Fake Bond.” With that, he left Sam there, taking a taxi to the Bank.

Alex took the lift to MI6’s secret headquarters once he had arrived, and was quickly called into Blunt’s office.

“Alex, are you up for a trip to London?” Blunt asked.

“Get to the point.” Alex sighed, he had no more time for their games.

“We believe, Charinov will be hosting an auction, private of course. If the weapons room and bear are anything to go by, we do not believe things will be strictly…legal.”

Alex nodded. “So you want me to go to Paris, and stop the auction from happening?” 

“Not exactly,” Blunt replied. “After doing some background research into Charinov, we learned he served on the atomic bomb project in the seventies, before moving here.”

Alex frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I left? I could-“

Blunt held up a hand to silence Alex. “That was another test. We won’t always be able to brief you on your missions, and will be left in the dark. We needed to know you could handle it, and you can, good.”

“Right.” Alex replied stiffly.

Blunt cleared his throat and continued speaking. “Gregori Charinov was born in 54’ the year Stalin died, and grew up in the town of Polotsk, before his family migrated to Moscow for work. They were poor, struggled to survive at the time, however they made enough money to send their son to school.

He studied hard and was particularly fond of science, so much so that the army hired him to work on Research and Development. Records suggest he had a key in the largest atomic bomb ever tested, the Tsar Bomba. He served as a physicist for the army until the Union collapsed in 99’. 

Alex paused. “So how did he get involved with illegal arms dealing then?” Alex questioned.

“Well, he was fired from his position after causing an argument with his superiors and left penniless. His father died in 2001 and left him a small fortune, with it he moved to London and began buying stocks. He became proficient, but the money wasn’t enough and he wanted more. By 2005 he began using his acquired millions to purchase illegal weapons and began exporting to the highest bidder. His profits sky-rocketed. Now he works entirely in an illegal manner, but is untouchable due to the fact he either has people killed or paid off that investigate him. Not to mention the army he owns.”

“You don’t say…” Alex replied sarcastically.

Blunt ignored him. “We need you to go to Paris, and find out where these weapons will be going, then destroy them.  
Alex nodded silently, secretly wishing he had never come here in the first place. MI6 were sucking him dry for all he was worth.  
Blunt handed him an invitation card, it was slim and white, reading:

Welcome to the Palais De Versailles  
Sir or Madam, you have been invited to my auction, taking place on February 30th.

Bring ONLY those you trust.

Travel and accomodation will be paid for.

I look forward to your participation

Gregori Charinov  
“We’re sending two more out, one to an agent of ours, and one to the agent you worked with, Sam.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “And he agreed to this?” Alex questioned.  
“Not quite, because we want you to find out who he works for,” Blunt said.

Alex couldn’t believe how corrosive Blunt was. “You’re nuts, Blunt! I won’t just spy on a friend!” He growled.  
“Perhaps, but then we can make things hard for your friend if they don’t agree.”

Alex paused. “How..?” He asked.

“We found out who his father is, who he really is, and we have found out he has other family members, he is unaware of this. It is unfortunate really, he could become victim to an…unfortunate arrest.”  
Alex clenched his fists and stormed off, taking the cards. He didn’t want to spy on a friend, the very idea was ludicrous. 

He headed down Pancras street, booking a taxi back to the hotel.  
Sam wasn’t there. Alex checked the entire room, before receiving a text.

“Hey Alex, I’ve gone for a walk to the hospital, to meet Astrin. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You had me concerned you were kidnapped again, are you alright?”

“Yes, very funny Alex…I’ll be back later, bye.”

“Bye Fake Bond. =)”

“Very funny, bye Alex.”

Alex sighed and decided to go for a walk himself, hoping to clear his head. He didn’t go far, only to the end of the block. He went to a café, had lunch, then decided he’d pay a surprise visit to an old friend.

“Pick up, come on pick up!” Sam frantically called Alex’s phone again and again, but the call came back unresponsive. 

Either Alex had his phone turned off. Or someone was blocking the signal. He hoped it was the former. He tried the police. Same result.

He was stuck in a cabinet, hiding. When he went to see Astrin, three men checked in to see him as well. He recognised them immediately as Charinov’s men, and when they had seen him, they followed him around until he could hide.

Three men, one boy, oh what a perfect Sunday.   
He climbed out of the locker, receiving odd stares from people walking through the building. He travelled down the main corridor to the bathroom and tried again.

“Hello.” Came a voice from behind.   
He looked up in time to see a single man armed with a garrote, a thin piece of metallic wire, held together with handles at each end. He appeared to be the youngest of the three men, thin and wiry, like his weapon of choice. Sam gasped and ducked as the man tried to place the wire round his neck, as he went down he brought his fist to the man’s stomach. He stumbled back as his attacker retaliated with a foot to the face, sending Sam sprawling. He rolled out of the way as the man tried to stamp on his chest. He quickly assessed the area, noticing a pair of walking crutches laying in the corner. The only viable weapons.

He scrambled, half crawling, half standing, trying to reach the crutch.

He felt a hand grip his ankle and pull him back. He thrashed and squirmed, but his attacker was much stronger than he had anticipated. If he could kick, he could’ve won this fight in seconds.

He felt the man’s breath on his face as he was pulled to his feet, and thrown again to the floor. He groaned in pain and slowly got to his hands and knees, then to his horror felt his attacker go behind him, and attempt to wrap the wire round his throat.  
In a panic, he brought up his wrist against the wire, and pressed down on it to prevent it cutting his throat, killing him.

His arm began shaking from the strain as the man pulled the wire against his arm, he could feel a sharp stinging sensation as the wire slowly made incisions in his wrist. If he wasn’t careful, he might just be cut to death.

He saw his chance and took it, he quickly grabbed the man’s left hand with both of his and twisted it. The man screamed in pain, dropping the wire as he was pulled to the floor. A neat trick he’d been taught of part of his training at RISC, how to use the joints of an opponent against them. He wasn’t taught specific martial arts, but anything and everything uselful that he could do in a combat situation.

If Sam pressed any further, he’d break the man’s wrist. Instead he grabbed the man’s arm with both hands, and used the momentum to slam his face on the toilet. 

There was a crack as the ceramic splintered from the force, and the body crumpled to the floor in a heap. 

Sam coughed, panting. That was the closest he’d been to death in a fight for some while. He felt his hands shaking from the adrenaline. He stood up and looked in the mirror.

“You’re okay Sam…you’re okay.” He assured himself.

He splashed water on his face, and then carefully made his way back to Astrin’s room, on the second floor. He limped upto the desk and asked to see Astrin.

“Oh, you must be here with your brothers, I suppose?” The female receptionist replied.

Sam silently cursed himself, he guessed the other must have been told to deal with him, permanently.

“No, they’re not friends, I think they may want to hurt him.” Sam replied, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

The woman just stared at him, before chuckling. “Alright, take a seat.” She said with a smile.

 

Sam obliged, slowly taking a seat and-   
He burst into the room.  
Astrin was nowhere near as badly hurt as he had been before. He was already fighting off the attackers in a hospital gown. Sam rushed in and hurled himself at one of the men while Astrin and his opponent grappled over a flip-knife. 

He landed on top of his opponent and attacked, rather sluggishly, driving elbows into the man’s head and face until he felt no movement. He heard a smash and saw the other man slump to the floor. His face had been smashed into a lamp.

Astrin coughed and sat on his bed. “A-ah…thank you Sam. As you can see I’m, quite well.” 

He clutched his chest and groaned. “Call RISA, tell them I need a transfer.”

“I can’t…something’s blocking the-“

Astrin checked both men, gritting his teeth in pain as he bent down and took out a small black device out of one of their pockets. He promptly opened the window and threw it out.

“Signal jammer…now…c-call them.” He ordered.

Sam nodded and quickly dialled the third number on his phone, being put through to a receptionist. He explained what had happened.

The next hour happened fast. Within less than 10 minutes, a security team came for Astrin on a stretcher, and escorted him to an ambulance, guarded by a convoy. Sam was escorted by a convoy back to the hotel. Alex wasn’t there. 

He groaned in exhaustion and flung himself onto the bed, falling asleep.


	11. Double Agent

Alex had gone to meet Tom, who was clearly overjoyed. Alex knew that Tom knew he was here because MI6 wanted him. Thankfully, Tom didn’t bring up the subject. Instead they went to a nearby park and played football, then Tom told Alex of his crazy antics at school, all the homework Alex had missed….things were good. Alex didn’t want to leave, but it was getting late, and he knew he had to go. 

They said their goodbyes, and Alex arrived back at the hotel, to find Sam completely out of it, with red marks round his neck. He frowned and sighed, also noticing the cut on Sam’s wrist. He wondered what the hell had happened, but, knew Sam was fine, he was alive after all. Alex sat on the bed and watched TV at a low volume, nothing interesting really, just some old, boring reality TV show. “Couldn’t be farther from reality.” He said with a slight grin.

Sam shuffled in bed, twisting slightly, before jolting awake. He took heavy breaths and frantically looked around the room, before slumping softly against the wall.

“Damn nightmares…” he murmured, noticing Alex look over at him. 

“Before you ask…I’m fine,” Sam said, holding a hand up.

“You look like shit, Sam,” Alex said.   
“Yeah…I imagine I do, not as shitty as when you shit though.” Sam joked, lacking his usual humour.

Alex turned off the TV and sat next to Sam, hopping on the bed, “What happened?” He asked again.  
Sam sighed and told him of his experience at the hospital, he subconsciously brought a hand up to his neck, reminding himself how close he came to a grisly end. He shuddered at the thought.

“How do you do it Alex?” Sam asked, Alex slowly shrugged.

“What, deal with-“

Sam interjected. “Not get scared…about, about dying, about all this all this. Because I feel every time I have to fight, what if I die. I almost died today and you never would’ve known and I-“

Alex put his hand over Sam’s mouth to stop him rambling on, then pulled it away a second later.

“I do get scared. I just learnt to deal with it…and I’m better at fighting than you.” He admitted.

Sam cocked his head. “Oh really?” Sam asked, before elbowing Alex. 

The two were soon wrestling each other on the bed. Sam ended up underneath Alex with his arms pinned above his head. “Say it!” Alex demanded.

“No!” Sam shouted in defiance.

Alex grinned and twisted Sam’s wrists slightly.

Sam gave in as he felt his muscles begin to scream. “Fine okay, you win!” He admitted, sulking. 

Alex laughed and patted his back. “Come onnn! You were fine!” 

Sam shrugged. “I guess.” He said, before turning his back on Alex and going to sleep again, in an effort to hide his annoyance and embarrasment.

Alex smiled for a moment, before sighing, remembering what Blunt had asked of them…

It can wait for tomorrow….Alex thought before he lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.  
-  
“So, what’s it like?” Alex asked, trying not to sound too conspicuous.

“Working for who I work for?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It is…strange, I mean…it’s nothing like…-“ He paused before starting again, “like things were before I was found but things are still…hectic.”

Alex didn’t want to press the matter any further, however, it would ironically be a benefit for his newfound friend if he did. 

“Who was-“

Sam sighed abruptly and stood up. They were in the cafeteria, having breakfast. At 8 am it was quite busy, bustling with kids begging parents for certain cereals and the odd couple clearly out for a romantic holiday. 

He placed his empty cereal bowl on a table with a sign above saying:

‘DIRTY PLATES/BOWLS/UTENSILS HERE’

He didn’t sit back down, instead walked right through the double doors, out of the cafeteria and into the corridor of rooms. He felt Alex follow from behind.

He took his keycard and swiped it through the slot, opening the door.

He began slowly pacing the floor, by the window, before he stopped, looking out to the street below. Why were things so complicated? Why was he stuck in an unmovable situation? Why was he-

His mobile rang.

“Hello?” Sam asked quietly, Alex stood behind, listening with curiosity.

“Hey, kid…just checking in on you.” It was Derrith, the man who had saved his life, introduced him to the new life he now lead.

“Thanks for the,” he paused before continuing, adding sarcastically, “‘check-up’. I’m fine, the mission went a bit sideways but I’m alive, Alex is alright, I assume. How’s Astrin?”  
“Astrin is Astrin, he may be old but he’s a boulder of resilience.”

Sam chuckled as he heard a faint, “I’m here, Derrith.” From Astrin, clearly with Derrith, wherever they were.  
“RISC took him in, even though he was fired, why?” 

“He’s done a lot of good, I put a word in for him as well, I wouldn’t abandon him, He’s too old, needs looking after.”

Sam smiled to himself. “I’ll be going to Paris, MI6 is sending us.”

There was a moment of silence. “Be careful kid, they’re a messy bunch. I’ll have arrangements put in since George isn’t here…tough work, things are wavering here, his dissent has us all reeling, but we’ll manage, had worse.“ He murmured. Sam had text him on the way to the hospital, which made the security team incident a whole lot more nerve-wrenching.

Sam made a noise in agreement, before saying a brief goodbye   
He turned slowly to Alex, who stood behind him, interest marked the boys’ face. “What’s the date?” Sam asked, he’d not even been sure what day it was, everything had become a whirl recently. 

 

Sam looked down, seeing the shirt and trousers he wore, before immediately being reminded of the crazed maniac who almost killed him with a pet bear.  
“Let’s go.” 

The two walked around central London, going around various stores, Sam nervously picked out clothes, despite Alex’s assurance he didn’t care about the expense.  
They left with a bundle of pretty much anything and everything, mostly dark t-shirts and jeans. 

“Thanks..I-“

“It’s fine…after all if your friends can’t help you, I can.” Alex said.

“Right…” Sam responded, dubious.   
Alex had been acting weird ever since breakfast. They headed down to Hyde park, which was a few blocks away from where they were. 

Alex would’ve preferred being in school…or being with Tom, instead, he was being forced to work with MI6…again.  
Sam received a series of texts from an unknown number in quick succession.  
He frowned and looked at the messages, which were a series of photos.  
The two of them in their hotel room, Sam in the hospital, Alex with his friend, Sam assumed, and of the two of them sitting here right now.  
“We know where you are. We are following you. You will never escape us.”  
He read the text message and gulped, before pocketing his phone and standing upright.  
“We’re being followed.” Sam announced, hurrying off. Alex followed suit, confused.  
“What did the message say?” Alex asked, Sam tossed him the phone.  
Alex scrolled through the photos and sighed heavily, but while Sam was distracted he saw his chance. Since Sam wasn’t looking, he inserted a small chip into the charge port. A small device he’d been handed by ASIS, as a parting gift, so to speak. A file downloader.  
Within an instant, everything on Sam’s phone was downloaded onto the device, Alex quickly removed the sleek grey object and handed Sam back his phone as he took a left turn down the street. Heading back to the hotel. As he walked with Alex he swiftly text Derrith, asking for assistance, before sending him the messages he received. In less than two minutes he received a frantic call.  
“GET AWAY FROM THE HOTEL!” Derrith screamed down the phone. Hearing the man on loudspeaker, Alex had an instant look of concern on his face.  
-  
-  
Then it happened.  
They watched in shock as their hotel room burst into flames on the second floor, had they stayed in, they would now be more comparable to a roast dinner than living beings. Fire roared out of the window and they slowly backed away before pelting into a run.  
First Sam, now Alex had almost been killed. They headed far enough away from the hotel until they ran out of breath.  
“I just want one quiet day…” Alex moaned.  
Sam nodded in agreement… “You and me both.”  
Sam leaned against the wall and coughed, moving a hand through his dark hair, thinking for a moment. He remembered Derrith was still on the line.  
“ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?” He yelled in a panic.  
“Yes…yeah we’re alright.” Sam replied through laboured breaths. “Not become someone’s roast lunch, yet.”  
“This is hardly a time for jokes!” Derrith chided, before sighing, there was a moment of silence. “I’m sending someone to pick you up. They’ll be in a silver Jaguar outside Waterloo station.”  
“Classy.” Alex murmured, receiving a glance from Sam.  
“Alright, bit of a walk isn’t it?” Sam asked, considering they were on the other side of London.  
“Grab a bus, it’d be safer than walking.”  
Sam sighed. “Okay.” He replied, before Derrith ended the call.  
They did as they were told, taking a bus as close as possible to Waterloo station. It took less than five minutes for them to identify their transport, the roof had been lowered, of course the glass was tinted. They speedwalked across the road to the pavement and got inside.  
Their driver was a man in his thirties, with close cropped hair and glasses. He wore a grey patterned shirt, he looked almost as miserable to see them as they were themselves.  
He tossed Alex a black blindfold. “No questions, put it on.” He ordered. Alex obliged.  
“Where are we going?” He asked, receiving no response from the driver.  
Sam smiled to himself, this was almost identical to his first visit to RISC. “You’re going to RISC, with me.” He informed Alex.  
Alex nodded briefly. The very air inside the vehicle was tense, their driver constantly checking out the rear view mirrors, both windows, like clockwork. Alex fiddled subconsciously with his backpack while Sam tapped his fingers on the car door, looking outside at the passing cars and pedestrians.  
As they drove out of London, to the Headquarters of RISC, Alex was taken, still blindfolded by a guard at the main gate. He hadn’t seen the magnificent, gleaming modern architecture the building possessed, the cameras, or armed guards. This place was an off the grid fortress…with such a place, the person in charge had to be morally righteous. With the knowledge and power held here, the wrong person could do some catastrophic damage to governments and communities on a global scale. It was a secret because if the truth was released, the consequences would be chaotic.  
Sam was ushered through security by two busied armed men, up to the fifth floor Astrin’s office. After a half hour wait of silence. Sam was called through. But instead of Astrin, he was greeted by Derrith, in a well-groomed black suit and white shirt. The 23 year olds’ demeanour showed he hated wearing these clothes. He was much more comfortable in his leather jacket. He wiped his glasses with a cloth, before placing them carefully on his exhausted face.  
“Take a seat.” He said abruptly as Sam came in.  
Sam did, taking a brief glance around the room. Despite the man’s clear lack of experience being a temporary director, he had kept the place running like the well oiled machine it was.  
“Charinov’s men are all over you two kids…” Derrith began, pacing behind the desk. The floor to ceiling window just behind him, the blinds drawn.  
Derrith continued. “MI6 sent Alex with you, we have two children playing a dangerous game of hide and seek, or rather, hide and shoot, or get shot it seems.”  
Sam raised an eyebrow, Derrith was speaking as if Sam wasn’t even present.  
“You were almost killed at the hotel, and then the business at the hospital against Astrin. You’ve a knack for provoking the beast that lies within, don’t you kid?”  
“Since when were you so fond of speaking like…whatever that was?” Sam asked, utterly perplexed.  
“Stress relief.” Derrith murmured, before clearing his throat to address Sam in a more direct manner, leaning over his…Astrin’s desk. “We need to move you out of London, along with Alex. I’ll have Astrin speak to MI6 within a week, we’ve already notified them. You’re both going to Paris to continue going after Charinov.  
“He’ll be in Paris?” Sam asked, Derrith responded with a nod, a laptop laying on the side was hooked up to the camera feed.  
“We searched your spy friend and found these.”  
The screen showed the cards MI6 had given Alex.  
“He never told me this..” Sam muttered.  
“My guess is MI6 were wanting to, until…this all happened. I don’t see why you shouldn’t go. But not without the proper equipment.”  
The feed continued as Alex’s belongings were searched, finding a few gadgets and personal items, but no cause for alarm, nothing that would compromise their integrity...  
“Relax for today Sam. Alex will be released soon enough. Tomorrow we will begin preparations for your next assignment.”  
Sam nodded, anxious yet excited, a sense of adventure filled him…perhaps this was what kept him coming back, he guessed. A desire for knowledge, exploration and justice...


	12. Your Mission, If You Choose To Accept It

MI6 Headquarters, London  
“Mr Blunt, I assume. You are an interesting person. Also extremely ridiculous. You have been using the Rider child for over a year now and don’t seem to shred a single thought of the boy, his mental state. Are you heartless, or just utterly self-absorbed?”  
The Head of MI6 stared through his glasses at the man before him. It was 10 am, a warm Monday morning, but not as hot as the friction between the two men sat opposite one another.

“No…Astrin.” Blunt cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. 

For a moment, the only sounds were the distant traffic on the busy London streets below, and the sound of the clock ticking in the office.

It had been eight days since the boys had been taken to RISC, Astrin had healed well enough, insisting on going back to work and was, luckily, welcomed with open arms, only he felt those arms had been hiding a dagger. He’d heard of the head of MI6 for a while now, the rumours they had blackmailed a child into doing their dirty work…much like George had forced Sam to do his dirty work.

This was supposed to be a ‘productive’ meeting. Only from what Astrin had heard of the head of Mission Intelligence, he’d decided he already disliked him. His maroon eyes studied the aging man before him, analysing him like a computer would a word document…with speed and efficiency. After Blunt lowered his mug, he stared at Astrin.

“Are you sanctioned, by the government, Astrin…what an odd name,” Blunt wondered.  
“It’s not a name, it’s a cover. The work I do requires that my contacts are unaware of my true identity.” Astrin said, avoiding Blunt’s question.  
Blunt nodded. Astrin didn’t like this, there was something…sketchy in the man’s eyes. “I see, well. I want you to know how we’ve planned this.”

Blunt went on his usual, I know who I am and you are beneath me, type speech, explaining he had an agent in Paris, and had invitation cards for the boys. 

“Hmm, apparently you sent Alex off without a de-brief, or necessary equipment. Is this correct?” Astrin asked, leaning on the table, looking directly into Blunts’ soul…if there was one, Astrin doubted he’d see it.

Blunt nodded. “I see you dislike our way of working, if the government doesn’t trust us, then what makes you so adept?” He questioned, almost scowling.

“Because we’re not like you…we’re not blunt. I’ll have RISC handle the formalities and briefing for you, so all you have to do is handle the reports and press when it reaches the public. Sound doable?” He asked rhetoricaly.  
Blunt grunted. “I have things to do.” He said, taking another sip of his drink.

“Sure.” Astrin promptly stood and exited the man’s office. “Have a nice day Mister Blunt.” Astrin joked, before calmly opening the door to leave.

“Stop,” Blunt said, standing. “Perhaps we may come to an agreement.”  
Astrin sighed, still holding the door open. “Very well, Alan. What do you propose?” 

“That we work together, we can work more efficiently if we merge our efforts.”

Astrin was sceptical, every suggestion this man made seemed to have an ulterior motive. He walked up to Blunt, shaking his hand. “Fine, but if I have any reason to suspect a breach of this agreement. I’m pulling Sam out, understand?”

“Of course.” Blunt smiled, then handed him a form. “In writing, here.” Blunt handed Astrin a pen, and he signed simply with “A-” before leaving.

-

“You’re both going to receive equipment for your mission, an alias, and a makeover, since you have just over a week it should be ample time to adopt these new lives.” Derrith spoke to them as he walked down a pristine hallway towards a section marked, ‘Briefing.’

The boys found themselves in a metallic looking room with a glass table and seats. The walls were painted navy blue with a projector overhanging the wall in front of them. It was windowless, completely bare. The door behind them was closed and the two boys were ordered to sit down as the screen came to life with a map of the Palace.

“You will both arrive on the 29th, and be booked into the Hotel du Roys for the night, then will have some time to, perhaps, enjoy the scenery before the night's event. Your MI6 friend will be acting as your father, and you will be his sons.

The boys glanced at each other, wondering how on earth that could happen, Derrith continued. 

“The auction itself could comprise of up to ten thousand, so be mindful to not be side-tracked. An informant of our own will be there too, to make sure things go smoothly since we can’t trust MI6. He’s done some digging and found out that the auction will begin at 10 pm in the art gallery, after a grand meal in the dining hall. Your job is to locate where the illegal stash is being kept, then to mark it with tracking devices. If possible, find any other information about their next moves. Any questions?” 

The two boys glanced at each other with uncertainty, two agencies working together seemed like a bad idea. 

“We won’t meet the MI6 agent until the event, how will we know to find him?” Sam asked.

Derrith nodded. “Alex, you will receive a call from your agent, according to your friend Mr Blunt.” Derrith joked with a stifled laugh. “Our agent will call Sam.” 

“Alright, seems simple enough,” Alex said.   
The boys got up to leave as Derrith spoke again. “Follow me.”

They followed him out of the briefing room and then took a lift to the fifth floor, the floor that held the most valuable secrets pertaining to RISC’s fundamental core of existence, the names of all serving agents across four countries in Europe, and an R&D room. 

“You’ll be seeing this room once, no other time, so enjoy the sight while it lasts.” Derrith swiped his card along the keypad until an electronic buzz signalled he could open the blank white door. 

This room was something else, scientists worked in rooms of various sizes, wearing lab coats, they were conducting tests on various liquids, mechanisms to be used in missions and at the end of the experimental area was a woman who appeared to be around twenty-eight. 

“Hello again Derrith.” She said, showing a row of almost immaculate teeth. She wasn’t wearing a lab coat but a teal suit. 

“Hello, Ophelia.” He said, an amused smile on his face. “This is Ophelia, the head of our Research and Developmental department. Here is where you’ll be getting prepped for your missions.” He turned to face the brunette.

“I shall leave them in your capable hands.” He said, before turning and leaving.

She shook her head, smiling. “This way boys.” She began walking down to a set of double doors into her own office, which was full of books and various boxes from A to G containing various devices and gadgets, she pulled one up labelled C, and beckoned Sam over.   
“This is one of yours.” She said, handing him a black metallic tube, with a small button on the top. “Go on, press it.” She said, bubbling with excitement.

He pressed the button, and the small object expanded into a lengthened cane, with a silver handle. Sam’s eyes widened with excitement. “Tell me more!” He begged. 

She ran through some of the features. The handle contained a smoke-screen, a sleep dart and lockpick, all accessed through different handle-prompts on the backside of the cane.

“It’s as simple as point and shoot, with the dart, same for the smoke-screen.”   
She took the cane off him, and detached the top half of the handle, showing the lockpick.   
“It’s electronic.” She told him, “works just fine.”  
Sam nodded gleefully, observing the frame, there were small millimetre sized juts in the metal, which is what, he guessed, allowed it to change shape, the button remained halfway down the canes’ frame, which would possibly be his only negative. 

Alex was handed a box named G, which he secretly named ‘Gizmos.’

He was handed an array of gadgets, some he knew of, some he didn’t. his famous zit-cream had returned, as well as his explosive earring. 

“How did you get these?” He asked amazed, before being handed a letter by Ophelia, she smiled down at him as he read:

‘Hey old chap, Smithers here!

I heard you were working on another mission for us, and wanted to give you some new toys to play with. This is the last time you will hear from me unfortunately as I have, (actually) now retired. Good luck Alex!’

Alex smiled down and pocketed the note, before being given a watch that could send out electromagnetic disruptions. 

“That’s all I have for you!” She said, “good luck!” Derrith soon came back to escort them out, and they were then given rooms to sleep in before their departure.


	13. Calm Before The Storm

The flight to Paris had been relatively fine, despite Sam hating air travel. They touched down at the airport at 10am, and proceeded to the Hotel Du Roys by 11. They were rushed through with fake names of Alistair and Seth, and then led up to their rooms by one of the receptionists, a man in his early thirties with a thick accent. Sam sighed as Alex spoke fluent French to the receptionist, not understanding a single word, so he stayed a step behind to take a quiet glance at the place they would be staying in. The place was very grandeur, the hotel a rich business man might book if he had a conference, he supposed that they were almost here for the exact same reason…sort of.

“Seth, hurry up!” Alex called. Sam snapped from his gazing and hurried upto Alex and the cleaner, he’d dawdled behind. 

“Here is your room, and here are your cards, if you need anything, ring the bell.” He glanced at the boys before walking off. 

"Rien ne vaut un bon chez soi." Alex murmured, walking inside their room and dumping his suitcase by the wall.

“Alex, I mean Alistair, I don’t speak French, please, stop it.” Sam murmured as he unpacked his clothes from his own suitcase.

“I was only teasing, Seth, chill out. It means nothing is worth more than one’s home.” He said, watching as Sam unpacked his clothes…looking for something else he could possibly use as evidence. Sam felt his presence and looked back.

“Are you alright, you’re just staring at me.” 

Alex looked away, folding his arms. “Yeah, yeah, just making sure you’re, you know, unpacking your clothes right.”

Sam frowned. “Mm…sure.” 

Sam finished and deposited them in his drawers, he’d sort everything else out later. He limped over to the window and stared. The Eiffel Tower was off in the distance, greeted by traffic on the streets below.   
“It’s a nice place this, huh?” Sam asked, glancing around their room. White walls and old-fashioned furniture with a bed each for them…it was all very posh, too posh, reminded him of his own home. 

“Yup, certainly is.” Alex said, flopping on his bed and turning on the TV. Most of the channels were French, aside from one or two.

“Well, subtitles are needed I guess, Seth?” Alistair teased.

“Alright, alright, I can’t speak French and you can, I get it, jeez.” 

“No it’s not that, it’s that you know German and Russian, but not French, I find it funny.” Alex said, smiling a little. 

Sam’s face went white. “How do you know that..?” Sam asked cautiously. 

Alex immediately regretted making such a comment. He shouldn’t know that, but of course the documents he stole, meant he did.

“MI6 had a file on you. Not much! Just uh, the basics, like your name, date of birth and language skills.” He said quickly, lying through his teeth.

Sam folded his arms, tilting his head. 

“How?” he demanded. 

Alex had really shot himself in the foot now, but he kept his composure, this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been caught out in a lie, at least it wasn’t his name he was caught out on. 

“Well…they had this information on you for a while, that’s why they were so interested in us working together. To see just how good you were, of course you declined their so-called offers, so all they have now is a blank file with your name on it.” Alex looked Sam directly in the eyes.  
Sam looked at the floor and sighed, thinking for a moment. “If they get anything else on me, will you let me know?” Sam asked>

“Of course!” Alex nodded, giving a reassuring smile.   
Sam stood up after a moment. “I’m going for a walk round the hotel…I need to think,” he murmured, before leaving Alex alone. 

His smile dropped, he knew it was all fake, he realised he’d possibly dug himself into an even bigger hole. How far was he willing to go to save a friend from prison, even if it meant losing that friend in the process?

With a reluctant sigh, Alex hopped off the bed and took his chance. He found Sam’s diary which he scanned through, taking photos of anything important. He felt sick to his stomach, out of all the things MI6 had coerced him into this had to be the worst thing. 

He felt he had enough now, accounts on the people Sam had met, and his first mission in stopping a technological weapons manufacturer developing self-driven AI weapons. This was amazing to Alex, just like his own first mission it was to take down a man heralding a new age in technology. After storing all the photos on his phone, he sat on the bed in limbo. If he sent this to MI6, they would know things about Sam that he probably wouldn’t even tell Alex…If he didn’t, MI6 might arrest Sam over charges of aiding a criminal, since his father was still at large, although he wasn’t a known criminal. Sam’s diaries could blow the whole story…and end up with himself and his father facing heavy prison sentences, if of course, MI6 had their way. 

“Why am I doing this..?” Alex asked himself with a groan as he stared up at the ceiling, lying on the bed. Sam came back in eventually with an older man. He was in his forties, dark hair and grey, lifeless eyes, that made him look more akin to a fifty year old.

“Alistair, I found dad.” Sam murmured. 

“Oh, hey…dad.” Alex murmured, sitting up on his bed as their ‘dad’ looked around unimpressed at the two.

“I was expecting people more…alert than two teenagers.” The man grumbled. “Agent Foster.”

Sam sat on his bed which was behind Alex’s and mostly ignored the two. The man introduced himself as Agent Foster, and then complained at having to work with children. Both of them had heard it all before. Sam did his best to drown out the man’s droning by reading, eventually he left for his own room and both boys sighed with collective relief. 

“What an idiot.” Sam murmured as he sat up, looking over at Alex who nodded in agreement. “The older, the wiser…and more annoying.” The boys chuckled and decided to exit their rooms for lunch. Sam let Alex handle the orders while he got their table and sat down by a window. After a rather quick lunch they agreed to make the most of their visit and play tourist for the rest of the day, regardless of their father insisting they stay. They weren’t in any danger here, no one knew they had even arrived in Paris. MI6 had given Alex an allowance while in France, and he made good use of it with Sam. Cheeses, books, stupid hats and shoes later and they came back with a bag full of touristy goodies that filled them with glee inside. They had spent a remarkable six hours out in town.

Sam had a nice new pair of shoes and Alex had a hat that made him look like one of the three musketeers. 

“Why did we buy this stuff again?” Sam questioned, tilting his head as he flicked the feather on Alex’s hat.

“Because we’re tourists, and as tourists we have to act stupid and buy overpriced things.” He said with a grin. 

They laughed amongst themselves until a rather angry Agent Foster burst into the room.

“Where were you!?” He hissed.

“Easy dad. We were touring the city.” Sam murmured as Foster glared down at him, making him shiver. 

“Hmph, I told you not to go out longer than four hours.”

“No you didn’t.” Alex replied simply, smiling inside as he caught the man at his own game. 

Foster stormed off, and went back to his room. Sam felt unsettled, what if the only reason the agent was here was to spy on him. Whatever the case, he hoped the other agent would arrive soon, after all, the day after tomorrow was February the 30th…


End file.
